


cross my heart

by irkenfens



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Lowercase Lock, M/M, Old Married Spirk Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 01:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12877164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irkenfens/pseuds/irkenfens
Summary: "i'll see you in the future when we're older;and we are full of stories to be told.cross my heart and hope to die,i'll see you with your laughter lines."





	cross my heart

in the beginning, they were like thunder and lightning.

they streaked across the sky, each trying to see who could burn brighter, who could roar louder. they fell together in a fatal spiral, sparks bursting where their eyes met, where their skin touched. deep blue against shining gold. 

they existed in an uncountable number of universes, and they met as many times as there are stars that fill the sky. in many of their first meetings, their hearts were filled with a hunger for the unknown, and their tongues with an anger too strong for ones as young as they. 

in one such moment, in one such timeline, their voices echoed sharp and biting through a shining hall, and all eyes were upon them. one black, one red. they were magnets, for the instant their eyes met, they felt an irresistible attraction, an unseen yearning pulling them together no matter how much they struggled. their words were knives, and they danced to a deadly rhythm, the choreography of battle, each trying to wound the other with sharp sentences and pointed accusations. 

they fought like this in nearly every universe, at least in the beginning.

in one dimension, they prowled around one another, wary, like circling beasts. in this world, a lawless land where only the wolves dared roam, leaders could change as quickly as the phases of the moon, and right hand men arose wearing uniforms sewn of blood. the dagger insignia over their hearts was more than a reminder, but a promise. glimmer and gleam, glint and glisten. nothing but ruthlessness shadowed their hearts, and no laws guided them but those of nature. maybe the captain was right to be watchful for the thunder.

in yet another lifetime, the tension finally snapped on the brilliant deck of their ship, and there they fought in a twisted form of mutiny: renegade captain against first mate, gold against silver. the acrid smell of ozone crackled in the air, tension growing, blood fever rising, wind whipping the frenzied sails, until the roiling thunder roared down from the heavens. the hardened sailors gasped for air as did the lightning boy, pinned, writhing at the mercy of his foe’s gleaming rage and pointed ears, tips flushed green with suppression. 

but for all their displays of bravado and authority, of mighty rage and unholy power, thunderstorms must eventually abate and give way to clearer skies. and so did these two, their tempers first fading from stormy, to cloudy, to fair. it was in this moment they learned that their touches could be filled with more than hatred, their gazes with more than hostility. a friendship bloomed, a moonstruck flower, its heady perfume filling the air between them with the scent of desert wind and unbroken horizons.

they grew together, slowly at first, intertwining their lives, learning how to navigate both the stars and each other. in a surprisingly short time, the blink of an eye, they became inseparable. they spent all their time together, playing chess and philosophizing, or strolling through the ship’s corridors, their whispers echoing through the quiet halls. 

but they could always be found on the bridge, the golden captain sitting tall, beaming over his shoulder, his bright eyes filled with warmth. dark haired, dark eyed, clad in silver and blue, the first officer stood proudly, one hand fondly resting atop his captain’s shoulder as he gazed out at the stars spread before them. 

they each found something in the other, something they hadn’t believed existed, yet something they had always felt compelled to search for. their childhoods had each been marked by turmoil, by strife, by loneliness and hate and anger. marooned on planets light years apart, they each looked up at the same sky and couldn’t help but wonder. 

their saving grace was somewhere up there, they knew, out and beyond, hidden in some distant solar system or some far flung nebula. the elixir that would finally save them from themselves, the antidote to the poison that curled in their stomachs lay somewhere beyond the horizon, somewhere just out of reach. 

and when they finally found what they’d been searching for, found it in each other, they closed their eyes and crossed their hearts and vowed to hold on tight.

vivacious, lively jim, who always burned as brilliantly as the sun, taught spock of the side of himself he’d long shunned. he taught spock that emotions do not make one weak, that his humanity was as much a part of him as his logic. the two sides of himself had long been at war, but in jim’s presence they came to a cease fire, and only with his captain at his side could spock find the blessing of peace.

in return, spock taught jim how to think before he spoke, how to hold his tongue and manage the emotions that always roiled painfully inside. jim became a better captain and a better friend, infinitely respectful and compassionate and understanding of others. he learned when to push and when to pull, and he drew a quiet strength from spock’s presence, a peace that left him as sure and serene as the moon.

they were as different as night and day, as the sea and the sand. and yet, they were two sides to the same coin, two halves to the same whole. epic foils, each a compliment to the other’s particular brand of madness.

they were friends, surely. best friends. friendship was an understanding so complete, you knew the other person’s thoughts better than your own. friendship was a willingness to do anything, go anywhere, be anyone for the other. friendship was a little lump in your throat when you looked at them, because they meant so much to you and you just hoped that they knew it.

oh, shit, they thought (although, maybe not in so many words). 

realization dawned, bright as a sunrise and just as breathtaking. 

that wasn’t friendship. 

that was love.

and suddenly, they were falling. they were slipping through the dark, the stars streaking by, trails of light stretching on into infinity. there was nothing to anchor them to reality but each other, the touch of their fingers, the brush of their gazes.

everyone could see it but them. head in a bottle, jim moaned and complained to bones, who would just roll his eyes and pour his friend another. head in his hands, spock whispered softly to nyota, who would give him a small smile and a comforting pat on the back.

unrequited love, they said, their eyes downcast. he doesn’t feel the same.

yes, he does, they said, looking their friend in the eye and jabbing a finger into his chest. you just refuse to see it.

maybe bones was onto something, jim mused, watching spock’s gaze linger on his own hands a moment too long, watching a green blush color the vulcan’s cheeks every time jim paid him a compliment.

maybe nyota was right, spock thought, watching his captain’s face light up every time their eyes met, watching a brilliant smile steal its was across his features every time spock doffed formality and just called him “jim”. 

maybe they were right, they thought, and all of a sudden, their easy, carefree friendship wasn’t quite so simple anymore. the tension between them thickened, stretching impossibly, unbearably tight. it suffocated their every interaction, leaving them flustered and short of breath. it was a wire stretched between their hearts, tugging them closer together. 

just as they met in a million different ways, in a million different universes, so fractured the heady tension between them. although it happened in many ways, in many places, each time it was a kiss, born of a desire so desperate it could wait no longer to be sated, born of a love so strong it could no longer be contained. 

grasping, needy hands, twisted into the back of a blue uniform, tangled into silky blonde curls, intertwined forever. soft, warm lips, pressed together, gasping. strong arms, wrapped around one another, holding him in place so as to never let him ago.

it was destined, the snapping of the tension, the breaking of the ice, the shattering of the glass. theirs was an epic romance, transcending time and space and any other obstacle the universe could set in their path. just as one cannot have lightning without thunder, gold without silver, the sun without the moon, one could not have the captain without his first officer, jim without spock. they were fated to meet, compelled to explore, and destined to love. 

and so they spent years, traveling and adventuring, furthering their quest to advance the best of humanity. they promoted tolerance and acceptance and diversity and love and all of the things they had learned from one another, sharing all of the best parts of their souls. 

there were rough moments, sure. moments when their communicators were jammed and they were stranded, out of phasers, out of luck. moments when the transporters were malfunctioning and there was too much blood and and not enough time. moments when they looked into each others’ eyes and reached for each others’ hands and knew in their hearts that the end was near. 

and yet, each time, they managed to evade death, managed to scrape together their wits and their strength and live to take another breath, live to see another day. and from each brush with danger, from each near-fatal mistake, they continued to grow and discover. above all else, they learned to value the weight of sacrifice, the strength of will, and the power of love. 

no matter the peril, no matter the cost, they remained committed to exploration and to one another and to the belief that there is goodness in all who look to the stars and long for more. and finally, there was nothing holding them back from the greatness that had lived in their hearts all along. hands intertwined, with their friends at their sides and a whole universe ahead, our heroes stayed good and true and spread their message to the stars.

they were never without one another, the captain and his first officer. they were each other’s prized possession, the brightest star in each other’s sky. their hands never slipped, their gazes never faltered, and their hearts never wavered, neither of them ever having loved or been loved so fiercely, so passionately, so completely before. nothing could have pulled them apart.

but, all good things must come to an end. 

and so did their reign, these princes of the cosmos. they took their leave of the golden throne and the silver palace in favor of a simpler life, a quieter life, one spent sipping tea and holding hands, marveling at the sheer pleasure of being together and basking in the profound joy of each others’ presence.

the fire that had once burned so brightly within them was banked to a set of smoldering embers, the passage of time dulling the raging inferno to a warm glow. and so these princes, who had once shined brighter than the stars through which they had soared, were finally content to fade into the background, a pair of old kings who had enjoyed more than their fair share of adventure.

they spent many years together, wandering the streets of their kingdom, enjoying a life neither of them had ever thought he’d be fortunate enough to live. laughter had etched grooves across their brows, and smiles had carved wrinkles around their lips. at long last, they were content and fulfilled, reveling in this simple feeling. 

but the time slipped away from them in relentless bursts, stealing memories from their minds and words from their tongues. it quickened its pace, and before they knew it, before they were ready, before he had lived all the life left in him, jim lay on his deathbed, his fingers intertwined with spock’s for the last time.

thyla, he whispered, his last breath a faint sigh. spock watched as the life left his husband, as his grip slackened, as his eyes darkened and his gaze lengthened, seeming to stretch onwards into infinity. 

spock decided, then and there, that his favorite color was blue. not for the uniform he once wore, oh no. for the eyes that had stared into his own and made him feel seen for the first time. it was illogical, irrational, emotional. why should he enjoy one wavelength of the electromagnetic spectrum more than any other?

but he’d always been a child of two worlds, always been pulled by both emotion and logic. it was true, he’d learned to embrace his human side, although it did not come easily. but in that moment, watching the life slip from his husband’s form, he could no longer hold back the dam. he floated away on a flood of grief, letting the tears wash away his pain.

with jim gone, he was always cold. his bright, blazing, burning star no longer shined, and spock felt as if he’d never know warmth again. he was the moon on a starless night, quiet and still, staring out into the vast reaches of an empty infinity. he was silver left to tarnish, he was a thundercloud in a storm of swirling, surging sleet.

but, even for the sorrow that filled his soul, he wasn’t lonely. jim visited sometimes, spontaneously, in the moments when spock least expected it. he never stayed, passing through just long enough for spock to wrap his husband in his arms and hold him close. jim would fade away, brushing his cheek and smiling softly, whispering that they’d see each other again. 

so, many years later, when spock’s time finally came, he wasn’t surprised to see jim appear, his gold uniform gleaming brightly in the starlight, a familiar twinkle in his eye, a hand outstretched. spock rose to meet him, once again donning his silver and blues, and jim led him away, up and away to a gleaming ship hovering in the inky darkness. there, spock was relieved to see, were the others who had left him long ago: his crewmates, his friends, his family, proudly standing at attention.

and, once again, jim and spock took their places at the helm and twined their fingers together, reunited with their ship and the stars and each other, forever. 

and so goes the tale of these two heroes. from enemies, to best friends, to lovers, to partners, to something much more, something neither of them knew the name for yet felt in the truest part of their hearts. they couldn’t be separated, in any universe, no matter how hard the universe had tried.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired a lot by the song "laughter lines" (bastille) and a little by "thunder" (imagine dragons)
> 
> thank you for reading! it's not perfect but i'm still proud of it and i hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> thanks as always to my beta, ali. couldn't do this shit without you, my dude!!!


End file.
